It was a beautiful spring day, the first sunny day after a long winter of overcast skies. A lovely day to birth my baby. I asked my older two daughters, then aged two and four, and they agreed. I'd been having good, strong, regular contractions for months, but these started coming closer together - about every ten minutes to be exact - the night before. When I woke up a few times in the night from the strength of them I knew the next day was to be *the* day.

My hubby and I woke up together around ten o'clock and talked with quiet excitement about what was about to happen. I drove to Burger King for a breakfast sandwich and coffee, but BK was closed, so I went to McDonald's drive thru instead. I ate my breakfast at home in the warm sunlight of my kitchen, and then when my girls woke up I started to get my "nest" in order.

The kitchen floor and table needed cleaning, some email needed to be sent, some scissors and string needed to be boiled. I called my mom to let her know the baby would be born today. Comfortable, strong contractions came irregularly throughout the morning. I went with my feelings and laid a clean shower curtain on our bedroom floor with a flannel sheet on top. When the contractions required me to focus, I did whatever came naturally. Sometimes I moaned, sometimes I danced, sometimes I rocked on all fours, sometimes I stood and rubbed my lower belly, sometimes I shook my hands and jogged in place, sometimes I sat on my knees and just roared.

I knew it was time to let go and allow my baby to be born, but I was resisting. I don't know why, I just was, and was distinctly aware of it. I moved around in between contractions but couldn't get comfortable until I was sitting on my rear with knees up, supported by my hands and feet. Finally then, I got the inspiration to try pushing with the contractions and it felt awesome. Like the peak of an orgasm or getting to pee after hours of needing to go but holding it.

After pushing with two or three contractions like this I could feel my baby's head just a few knuckle's deep. What a boost! I pushed a few more times with the irresistible force of my uterus and the baby's head came quickly to that point of almost being born. I told my husband that he should call the girls in if he wanted them to see the birth, but he didn't understand until it was too late. With one more push, my baby's whole body slipped gently out onto the sheet in front of me.

She was beautiful! At the time I was amazed at how tiny she looked resting peacefully there, but from the clothes that fit her later we decided that she was smaller than my middle daughter at birth, but larger than my first; probably about eight and a half pounds. I scooped her luscious, warm body up to my bare breast and we called in our girls to meet their new baby sister.

We caressed her and talked to her, and my husband took a few pictures. I complained that my rear was sore (it was temporary), so everyone hustled to arrange pillows behind me against the wall, and she started crying from the commotion. I tried offering my breast to her then, but she wasn't interested until later.

When she nursed, contractions started again and hurt a lot, until I remembered how much pushing had helped me feel comfortable during labor, then out slipped the placenta. We estimated the birth to have occurred at about 5:50 pm, Sunday March 28th 1999. It took us all night and the next day to think up a name for our third precious blessing: Cierra Leighanne Morgan.

More articles by Laurie Morgan
(these articles do not necessarily reflect the opinion of The Compleat Mother magazine)
Are Castor oil and other so-called natural inductions safe?
How long should a woman feel comfortable going overdue?
Is pain-free birth really possible?
Is all pain in childbirth due to fear?
Letter to my unborn first child
Cierra's Joyous Birth (short story)
It hurts to be silent
 

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